Once upon a time, this blog was going to be all about my pet bird, when I got one. But I never did get that bird. So, now this blog is about the beautiful, curious things that keep me in a near-constant state of happy distraction. Ironically, many people find these writings when they wonder what "peristerophobia" means. It's a fear of pigeons. I've made a bird blog after all.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Wisely driven?

Walking to my piano lesson, I saw a sticker on the back of a truck. Wisely driven? it said. I took it as a sign that what I've been considering for the past couple of days is actually a good idea. To wit: because I have had so much to think and write and do on the outside of the Cabinet lately, I've been giving what's in the Cabinet shorter shrift than I'd like. I never wanted this place to be full of "then I went here, and then I did this" updates. And yet that's what I have the brainspace for, most days. For the next week or so, just to give myself a rest, I'm going to let myself go as close to word-free here as I want. Some days, I may find myself unable to stay quiet. Some days, I may just be glad for the silence of an image I can offer here. I don't believe that I'm making a gradual exit from these writings; in fact, I believe that once I'm home, this place is going to be crucial to me in all kinds of ways, just as it was before I left to come here, and just as it's been throughout my time here. But just for right now, I need one less commitment that involves words.

Forty-one years ago today, my father and mother met on a blind date. She had masses of curly red hair; he had a shock of thick dark hair that fell over his forehead again and again. They went to an amusement park and rode the Tilt-a-Whirl. Lucky for me, by the end of the night they were goners.

Lucky you? Lucky us!I was dizzy getting off of a ride--The Spinner--and your father reached out and took my hand. He's taken it many times since then, but it always feels just like that first time. I would wish that for any woman. Lucky me!

About Me

Annie Dillard could have been writing about me when she said (of herself), "I like the slants of light; I'm a collector." Or Willem de Kooning: "I'm like a slipping glimpser." And don't forget Brenda Ueland: "I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten--happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another." But the Beastie Boys might have said it best: "When it comes to panache, I can't be beat." There's a reason I wear a ring that says Badass.